Let the Water Fall
by Veronica Barton
Summary: Based on SPOILERS involving Kate, Sawyer, and a waterfall.


**Let the Water Fall**

_By: agentalana_

_ Based on **SPOILERS** about a scene involving Sawyer, Kate, and a waterfall _

Kate POV

The beach is cold now, every friendly face has left; even that sweet pregnant girl has gone off to **_dig in_** the caves. The only soul I _do_ know is off brooding somewhere; just as well, I still need time to process today's drama... and, that kiss.

So that's what I am doing, the same thing I have done every night since crashing in paradise, sitting near the bonfire starring into its flames and contemplating life. I am plagued by the past, and the mess I left back there; and it seems in classic Kate tradition I am starting a new problem here.

Problem – I kissed Sawyer. Bigger problem – he kissed me. Quantum Physics problem– I liked it, and he knows it.

But seriously, what _was_ that kiss about? It certainly wasn't payment for information, he had none to give. Or did he? What _was_ he trying to say? What ever the message, however unclear, it was definitely loud; my heart is still pounding like the Energizer bunny and it is echoing throughout my empty soul!

I can't get his desperate look of longing out of my head, for a whole minute Sawyer wasn't the world's biggest jerk asking to get to first base in exchange for medicine. He looked lost, and hungry, empty and starving for anything, to feel, to connect. I know because it was like looking in a mirror, I could see myself in his eyes... literally, I was _that_ close.

"Kiss for your thoughts freckles."

What? I look up, and speak of the Devil... Sawyer is now sitting next to me and joining in the "stare at the fire" game. His expression is surprisingly smug free, and it's as if his smart a$$ joke was just a weak, heartless attempt to ease the awkwardness of the day. It was his way of apologizing and something within me just couldn't crush him, he's been bruised too much today, so I gave a weak chuckle and a grin.

"Only one a day," I say trying to **_build a bridge_**.

"Well, at least I have something to look forward to tomorrow," he says with a dimpled grin and in that incredibly husky, sexy voice of his. I melt. Not visibly of course, I have years of practicing at hiding my emotions; seriously I deserve an Oscar, Kidman has nothing on me!

Back to the game, might as well play along.

"Really? Are you planning on living until then? Cause, I thought for sure your goal in life was to see who would kill you first!"

This seems to have more than the desired affect, for his dimples have disappeared along with his cavalier attitude; he's resumed his brooding and looks as though he is trying to burn a hole through the flames.

After a forever silence the enigma speaks, in a very **_memorized-life-philosophy_** voice "it's just been easier, push people away and they can't hurt you; hurt them before they get a chance to hurt you. If you don't trust, then you won't be disappointed. If you show your worst then _they_ won't be disappointed. I can't afford to make friends, to attach myself to anyone, haven't... well, ever."

"Nice speech, do you actually believe that or do you just recite it to yourself every once in awhile to keep your tough guy image?" Okay that was a bit harsh, but I know this guy's game and I have got him beat.

He is becoming more visibly agitated, hope I don't get a repeat of this afternoon, after all, I was here first; he can leave if he wants, but I'm not moving!

"That's right I forgot, you are perfect, what would you know about it?"

Okay, sometimes things are quiet, and then there are times when the silence is so full of unspoken words that it is deafening, this is one of those moments. Even the ocean's roar has dulled, and I sit desperate to share but afraid of more of the same: judgment, disbelief, or an uproar of this already unstable society.

I silently debate, as he grows more visibly inward and frigid.

He has shared so much of himself today, his pain, his past, I have seen him vulnerable. And then it dawns on me, I am probably the first person in a long time that has seen the real Sawyer, or whatever his name is.

Then I make a huge mistake, and look over at him... darn his sexy brooding, the fire has cast a golden glow over him, highlighting his caramel colored hair, and darkening his dimples... he is seductive, luring... and he's not even trying! It's more than my typically self-controlled nature can handle and before I can stop it, words just start pouring out.

"He was with me ya know? Well, I was with him, the U.S. Marshall. I'm the only female that is currently on their "15 Most Wanted" list, so I guess I am sort'a special or something." I end with a heartless half-laugh.

I've got his undivided attention now.

"So, no, I'm far from perfect, and I know all about being misunderstood, treated unfairly, but I can't let it take over me, I have to keep going, I have to keep fighting; not against everyone but try to prove them all wrong, and sometimes... sometimes **_I'm_** proven wrong, sometimes people surprise, once in a while I meet a soul that gives me hope, and strength to keep going."

That was exhausting, not too detailed (don't want to give him too much blackmail), but still, it's incredibly difficult to talk while trying to hold back a monsoon of tears. The emotion of the day is catching up with me.

After wiping away a runaway tear I dare to look at Sawyer, and see the impossible, he is stunned speechless. I can tell he is trying to quickly process this new information in time to verbalize some sort of reply, so at a loss for a brilliant one-liner he simply whispers "damn" and turns back to the bonfire.

At least the silent volume is turned down to a normal level again, all I can hear now is the crackle of the fire and the splash of the waves. After a while they must have lulled me to sleep, because the next thing I know my eyes are being pried open by the rainbow rays of the rising sun.

As my eyes start to flutter open, I curl into a ball; when I do, I notice that a blanket is covering me and a cushion is supporting me. I lift up a bit to examine my new surroundings and look over to find Sawyer asleep in the chair at the opening of his humble (and I do mean humble) abode.

He moved me, he put me in his make-shift bed and he's guarding me in his chair, I don't know what's more surprising: that this dawns on me or that I am actually awake enough to realize his mysterious act of chivalry.

The moment comes and goes with the passing of a warm breeze and I decide that I am not quite ready to face the day, or this new improved Sawyer, so I just close my eyes and fall back to sleep. _"After all, tomorrow is another day!"_


End file.
